The Boy Who Lived
by StormPhoenix3205
Summary: What if Draco Malfoy had been the protagonist of the Harry Potter series? Find out if Hogwarts' favorite bad boy really is just that evil or if he's simply misunderstood. You know you want to! Loosely follows the books, rated "M" for later chapters (will provide warnings), minor O/C. (Cover image is not mine. Property of beca92[dot]deviantart[dot]com)


_**(Disclaimer: This chapter contains dialogue that is directly taken from Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone by J.K. Rowling. All other text throughout this story is my own except where otherwise noted. I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters within the series. I wish. How I do wish...)**_

**Summer**

**(Prologue)**

My name is Draco Malfoy and I've been waiting eleven years for my life to start.

Well, okay. That's an overstatement. But my life up until now has been pretty boring and I need something exciting to happen to me. Maybe I should explain- it's not like my life now is going to the dogs or anything. I'm a _Malfoy_, for Merlin's sake. I'm eleven years old and I have blond hair and gray eyes. I live at Malfoy Manor (where Malfoys have lived since the Medieval era- we even have the tapestries to prove it) with my parents Lucius and Narcissa. My best friend here at home is Sophie. She's my French cousin on my mother's side. We used to have our lessons together for as long as I can remember but last year she was accepted to Beauxbatons, a school in France, and went away. But she's been here for the summer holiday and told me all about it. She said there are actual _veelas_ there and everything!

But this fall, I get to find out for myself what school is like since I got my acceptance letter from Hogwarts on my birthday a few weeks ago. Father says when it gets closer to the school year we can go to London to buy my school supplies. I'm so excited to go to Hogwarts! I can't wait to leave here and finally meet some new people at school. I was supposed to go to Durmstrang, but Mother said it was too far away. No veelas attend Durmstrang but Sophie says in her letters that she heard they let you learn the Dark Arts. But Hogwarts is all right, I suppose. Not a bad second choice. It is the best school in the country. And I heard the famous Harry Potter will be coming to Hogwarts this year or perhaps the next- I'm not quite sure how old he's supposed to be. But anyway, if he does come, I have to find him before anyone else does. He's famous for surviving He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's killing curse, so he must a very powerful wizard already, and he's pure-blood of course, but I wonder what he's like...what if I became good friends with him? Everyone would know my name. Maybe I'd even get my photo in The Daily Prophet. Or even my very own Chocolate Frog card: _Best friend to Harry Potter, esteemed wizard Draco Malfoy, famous for his work with..._

**Diagon Alley**

The moment I set foot in Diagon Alley I knew it was different this time. I must've been a thousand times in my life of course, but this time was definitely different. I ran around, flitting about like a butterfly instead of pretending I was invisible the way I usually do.

"Stop darting back and forth like some creature, Draco," Father admonished. "We've got to get to Gringotts and we don't want the goblins to think you're one of their own." Instantly I stopped moving.

"I know you're excited, my darling," said Mother gently, slipping her arm around my shoulders. "But you have to remember that you're going to be on your own now. When people see you, they see all of us. Remember that you're a Malfoy, and a Malfoy is no small thing to be."

_You're a Malfoy..._How many times had I heard that? Too many to count.

But I held in my enthusiasm and walked neatly between my parents as we went to Gringotts, to get me an owl, and on other various errands for us all but after a while I grew restless and began to whine. I really wanted a new broom, especially since the Nimbus 2000 had just come out. Father sighed heavily and rubbed his temples.

"Lucius," Mother said softly. "Perhaps you and I could take care of some other business and let Draco do a few of these things on his own? He clearly wants to be off, and he could at least put all that energy to good use."

...

Fifteen minutes later, I was in Madam Malkin's, getting fitted for my school robes. We had credit at Malkin's, of course, as well as all the other important shops in the city. Everyone who's anyone knew the Malfoys. They also knew we never handled money directly, like any great wizarding family.

I stood straight and tall on my stool and thought about how great I'd look in Slytherin colors (hopefully) when the bell rang as another customer came in and Madam Malkin turned to him while nonchalantly waving her wand so the measuring tape started wrapping itself about my waist of its own accord. She returned back in a few moments with a boy following her. The boy didn't look like my sort of people. He was skinny and quiet, with round glasses and lots of black hair that was sticking out all over, covering his forehead and most of his eyes. His clothes were baggy and old, as if they had belonged to his grandfather who was three times his size. And homeless. Ugh. Madam Malkin ushered the other boy onto a stool next to mine and then began pinning the hem of his robes. He was obviously more interesting than she was, so I spoke up.

"Hello. Hogwarts, too?" I asked the boy.

"Yes," he replied. I explained what my parents were off doing and then told him how stupid it was that first-years weren't allowed their own broomsticks. This bloke was being awfully quiet, though. I tried again.

"Have you got your own broom?"

"No," said the boy.

"Play quidditch at all?"

"No," the boy said again.

"I do- Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say I agree." _What kind of moron doesn't play quidditch?_ I thought. But I also thought: maybe he's just not very athletic. Yes, maybe he's more of the brainy sort and not very good at quidditch. Probably falls right off his broom. So I tried something else.

"Know what house you'll be in yet?"

"No," repeated the boy.

"Well," I said, thinking aloud. "No one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been. Imagine being in Hufflepuff. I'd leave, wouldn't you?" I chuckled.

I'm not sure if the boy said anything or not because just then I saw this enormous man tapping at the window holding two gigantic ice cream cones. He seemed to the know the boy, though. Sure enough after the man walked off, the boy said he knew the large man and said he was called Hagrid. My parents had told me all about this Hagrid. Apparently he's some sort of charity case- a savage who lives in a mud hut in the Hogwarts forest and gets pissed every so often and sets fire to something (isn't there a law about alcohol on school grounds?) and I told the boy so.

"I think he's brilliant," the boy said resolutely.

"_Do_ you?" I said, not bothering to hide my disdain. Doesn't play quidditch and he's mates with that oaf of a gamekeeper? What was wrong with him? "Why is he with you? Where are your parents?"

"They're dead."

"Oh, sorry," I said automatically. "But they were _our_ kind, weren't they?" I pressed, trying to get to the important part.

"They were a witch and wizard, if that's what you mean."

I nodded. "I really don't think they ought to let the other sort in, do you? They're just not the same…" I went on, telling him how it's just not right. I mean, muggle-borns know nothing about our world- they can't be trusted. "They should really keep it in the old wizarding families," I continued. "What's your surname, anyway?"

Just then, Madam Malkin interrupted. "That's you done, dear," she said to the boy as her quill hovered in mid-air, jotting down his measurements. The boy hopped down from his stool without looking at me.

"Well, see you at Hogwarts I suppose," I prompted, vaguely wondering if our paths would cross again. The boy nodded curtly, murmured some reply, then followed Madam Malkin to the front of the shop to pay.

He was rather strange, wasn't he? Doesn't play quidditch, hangs around with servants, and doesn't care that they let in bleeding anybody to the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the whole of the United Kingdom?

He certainly was interesting, though. I wonder who he was.

**_A/N: Thanks for reading! Sorry if this chapter was short- I wanted to see if anyone would be interested before I pour my heart and soul into this. The world of Harry Potter is so close to my heart! Anyway, this is my first HP fic so I'd REALLY appreciate reviews. Let me know if you liked it, or if not, what you think could be better. Should I keep going with this story?_**


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